


Timeless

by soups



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4931995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soups/pseuds/soups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Konoha remembers is Bokuto’s spike flying straight to his face. The next thing he knows, he wakes up yesterday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timeless

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated birthday Konoha!

Today has been a pretty usual Tuesday for Konoha Akinori. He wakes up, yawns and gets out of bed, gets dressed, has toast for breakfast, rides the train, goes to class, gets the result from yesterday’s Math pop quiz, has lunch with Washio and Bokuto, then whistles while making his way to the gym after school was over.

After-school practice is pretty normal, too. Chats with other members and the managers, warm-up, receive practice, 3-minute rest, spiking practice. The only not-usual thing is Bokuto spiking a ball right to his face and he doesn’t react fast enough to avoid it.

He has no recollection of what happens afterward.

 

* * *

 

Konoha growls softly as he lazily opens his eyes. What time is it? He rolls to his side, hand reaching the black smart phone on the desk beside his bed and turns it on. Ouch, the light—wait, huh, it’s 6:07 already? He’s scheduled his alarm to ring at 6:00 on Wednesdays and Fridays for morning practice... Did he already turn it off earlier? Darn, he must’ve been out of it. He counts to five in his mind before getting up, yawning, his left hand reaching his head, expecting it to hurt from Bokuto’s super spike.

Hmm?

It doesn’t.

The realization alerts him awake. It might have happened so fast but his mind and body still remember it so vividly—he was jumping to block Bokuto’s spike, but then the angle got weird and before he could react, he felt something on his face then everything went blank. There is no way something like that doesn’t hurt… Actually, why is he in his room and why is it morning already? Did his teammates bring him home and he passed out through the afternoon and night? But still,  _why doesn’t it hurt?_

He stares at the floor for a few more seconds before feeling like an idiot. It was a dream. Of course it was, there is no other explanation. Which explains why the alarm didn’t go off—it’s still Tuesday. Konoha has never had a dream that realistic before, so much that it makes the back of his neck tingle with a sense of strangeness, but he guesses there’s a first time of everything.

He looks at his cellphone again, scrolling his twitter timeline but his mind is elsewhere. He can go to sleep again, but he’s already half awake right now and it’s too troublesome to go back to sleep. Well, the weather seems okay, a morning run doesn’t sound too bad.

Konoha yawns once more, changes into his running outfit, and proceeds to the bathroom. He looks at himself at the mirror for a few seconds then washes his face (with cold water of course, he doesn’t like the cold but it keeps him awake and it’s better for one’s skin), brushes his teeth, and stretches a little. Seems like his sister hasn’t woken up yet... She usually has a morning class on Tuesdays, the only day she wakes up earlier than him, but then again it  _is_  just a little after 6. More importantly, he’s pretty hungry right now, but eating right before a run would be pretty stupid...

“Good morning, Aki-chan,” he hears his mom says as he enters the dining room. The blonde stops for a moment as he feels an eerie shiver crawling up his neck. He doesn’t know why, but it feels similar as he felt earlier, like he’s seen this before... a deja vu? But he quickly shakes the feeling off. Every day begins pretty much the same way, so of course some will trigger that sense to him.

“Morning, Mom,” Konoha says briefly. “Do we have eggs?”

“We do, do you want one now? I was thinking of having some omelette right now,” his mom offers.

“Nah, I’ll have some later.”

“Alright,” she says, putting down the newspapers in her hands. “You’re awfully early today. Do you have extra practice or something?”

“Nah, I got up too early and decided to go for a run,” Konoha says as he takes a glass and fills it with tap water. “I had the strangest dream, though. I dreamed an entire day, like from I the moment I woke up, then I went to school, had class and practice and everything… It was so vivid I thought it was real and I woke up really confused.”

“Ooohh, yeah, that happens sometimes, huh,” his mom says, nodding in understanding. “The night before my high school entrance exam, I dreamed that I passed it and got really happy... Only to wake up and realize that the exam hadn’t even taken place yet.”

“Uwah, that’s the worst,” Konoha laughs. “But in my dream, I got hit by Bokuto’s spike, so I’m glad it didn’t really happen.”

She chuckles. “That does sound bad.”

“It was, I blacked out in the dream and woke up in real life,” he adds with a grin and a shrug after finishing his water. “Well I better get going now… Nee-chan’s still asleep?”

“Yeah, she usually doesn’t have class until noon on Mondays.”

Konoha stops his movements. “Huh?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you just say?”

“Huh? Your sister doesn’t have class until noon on Mondays?”

“Huh—what day is it today?”

“Hmm?” she replies, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s Monday.”

“Huh?” Konoha blinks. Okay, he might have dreamed his entire Tuesday, but his Monday too? Is that even possible? Because he’s pretty sure Monday has already passed… Or has it? Or is this Monday next week? Huh? “Are you sure this isn’t Tuesday?”

“Are you still asleep?” she laughs, showing him the newspaper she just read. “Look, Monday, September 28.”

“Huh,” he says. His mom has no reason to lie, and the newspaper does say Monday dated right before the Tuesday in his dream... Did he dream two entire days?

There it is, that weird tingling on his neck again.

He tries to shrug it off by going out running, but his mind keeps coming back to it. It’s so weird. He’s gone through two days of his life… In a dream? He’s woken up, gone with his daily activities, taken tests, talked with friends… In a dream? He’s heard of people who have dreams so real that they feel like reality, but actually experiencing it… It feels kind of weird. Really weird, actually. In fact, it feels so weird that he just wants to smack himself somewhere to force the uncomfortable feeling out.

Running isn’t working at all, he’s getting more tired mentally than physically. Maybe he should just go to school early. Go to his classroom, talk with some friends. Maybe he’ll feel better. Probably. Hopefully.

And so he does.

By the time he opens the class’ door, the clock is showing a little after 7:30. Konoha has never arrived this early in school except for morning practice, but again, there’s a first time for everything. The classroom is almost empty, as expected, but seems like the person sitting diagonally in front of him is already there. The classmate looks up from the book he’s reading, looking a little surprised.

“Oh, Konoha, morning. You’re unusually early today.”

“‘Morning,” the blonde answers. “Yeah, I woke up earlier and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I went to school early.”

“What’s that,” he laughs, and Konoha joins.

“Yeah, seriously, what the heck was I thinking.” He puts his bag on the desk and took a seat. "Oh, and I had the worst nightmare last night."

"What happened?” the classmate asks. “Were you chased by Yamaoka-sensei?"

"Why,” the wing spiker laughs. “That's frikking scary, man. But it's pretty close actually…” he pauses. “A Math pop quiz."

"Dude, no. Don't bring bad luck, okay."

The conversation carries on, derails as classmates come one by one, but laughter seems to never leave the flock. It doesn’t make the uneasiness go away, but it helps easing out a bit, to Konoha’s relief.

It, however, doesn’t last very long as Yamaoka-sensei comes into the room with a stack of papers in his hands and tells the class to clear their tables and prepare a sheet of blank paper.

The numbers on the paper in front of him paper make his neck tingle again.

 

* * *

 

_He's done these problems before,_

Konoha remembers he's made a mistake when doing a division in the equation and realized it two seconds after turning it in.

_He's walked this corridor at the exact same situation before,_

Three guys from next class were running in the corridor and one bumped his shoulder to him. Komi passed and patted him a hello.

_He's read this passage before,_

The Japanese Literature teacher called his name and told him to read a poem out loud, then asked if he knew the meaning.

Is Konoha a psychic?

 

* * *

 

He lies on bed, staring at the ceiling. Everything that happened today, everything down to the t, was exactly the same as the dream he had yesterday. Huh. What's up with that?

At some points he actually believed he had some premonition powers. It’s a stupid idea and he’s embarrassed by even thinking of it, but...

Nah, no buts. It  _is_  a stupid idea. It’s all coincidences, of course, big, consecutive coincidences. What other explanation can there be?

 

* * *

 

Konoha opens his eyes, again without the help of his phone alarm. He rubs his eyes slowly, and ouches when his fingers brush over his nose. Huh, it hurts a tiny bit. Did he punch himself in his sleep or something? After hanging out with Bokuto for years, it’s probably about time he catches some of the infamous Bokuto Sleeping Virus.

Mind still woozy, he reaches his cellphone to check the time. 6:07 am. That’s way too early, goddamnit…!

Konoha rolls back to the coziness of his blanket, damn is it cold. He lies on his right side for a while... Hm. He turns over. Hm. He lies on his back. Hm. He’s not sleepy at all. Argh. Why. This is already the second time this week, what is wrong with him. Should he go for a run? Yeah, he should go for a run.

He reaches the bathroom and looks at himself briefly in the mirror before washing his face with cold water. Good god, that’s cold. Isn’t it a lot colder than yesterday? He reaches for the towel, and his eyes catch a sight of his toothbrush. It's green. That’s strange, he vaguely remembers it was red yesterday... He probably just remembers it wrong, though. Or so he tries to think, but the feeling of uneasiness is sneaking behind his neck again. Damn it, it must be because of yesterday that he’s getting paranoid over things like this now. Stop it, Konoha Akinori.

"Whoah what the hell, Aki, you surprised me!"

Konoha turns his head and finds his older sister in bed hair, looking confused. "'Sup. How rare to see you up this early."

"That's my line, I just gotta use the bathroom real quick, but you seem like you’re getting ready or something.”

“That’s because I am getting ready.”

“For what?”

“Morning run.”

“This early on a  _Sunday_? As expected from our champion team. Well, do your best, I guess.”

“Wait huh—what did you say?”

“Hmm? Do your best?”

“No— before that? What day is it?” He feels like he’s gone through a similar conversation not too long ago. His sister is now looking at him funny.

“Sunday. Are you still asleep?”

“Maybe. What date is it today?”

“Huh? October 18... or 19? Well, around that." She glances at Konoha's confused face. "What's wrong? Did you forget your girlfriend's birthday or something?"

"I... huh. Nah, nothing's wrong. And I don't have a girlfriend." ...I think, Konoha adds in his mind. Yesterday was September and now is October and who knows he might've made a girlfriend or two that he doesn't remember.

"Huh. Okay," his sister replies, raising an eyebrow at the unusual reply. "Well, whatever, you're blocking my way so shoo."

He does as he's told and lets his sister in the bathroom while he stays in front of the sink. Konoha looks over his reflection on the mirror, eye to eye. He pinches his hand. Okay, it hurts, so it's not a dream. He's going to check the newspaper later, but it is cold, October cold, and his sister has no reason to mess up with him, not this early anyway.

He brushes his teeth, absentmindedly, and proceeds to walk out to the front door. Ah, there's the newspaper. Sunday, October 18, 2015. His sister was telling the truth.

Yesterday was September 28, right? He remembers clearly when his mom held up the newspaper for him. How does this happen? Did he really skip a month? Is it another one of his premonition dream, if that even exists?

He goes back to his room and lands himself to his bed. He takes his phone. It displays the same date: Sunday, October 18, 2015. There's a lot of new LINE notifications from last night, mostly from the volleyball club group (Komi and Bokuto completely forgetting that it is a group chat, as per usual). A few are from a couple of classmates, and a few more are from Sarukui. He opens them one by one, replying to his classmates’ messages which are mostly random funny internet pictures and videos, then reads Saru’s. “Hey, what time do we meet tomorrow?” Oh, crap, were they planning to meet up somewhere? Konoha scrolls up, but nothing mentions anything about any plan. They must’ve planned when they met at practice on Friday or something, and Saru’s just rechecking the time now. Darn it.

He sits quiet for a few more minutes, and out of all things he should be thinking of, he ponders what reply he should send Saru. "Sorry, I passed out early last night. I can do after lunch today, where should we meet?" is what he finally decides to type, hoping that Sarukui’s reply will shed a light of their plans.

Konoha puts his phone beside him, eyebrows furrowed as he begins playing with his fingers. What if this, and yesterday, hasn't been "premonitions", but rather his mind skipping and erasing memories of all times in between? While that doesn’t explain the fact that he managed to “dream” two entire days to wake up the day before, that could have been just a dream. It makes some sense, at least.

But why is his mind doing that?

A reply from Sarukui chimes in not too long after, saying they should meet at the west exit of the station.. Oh, they’re probably planning to buy new shoes or something, since that’s near the sports store they frequent. Alright.

Konoha is still unsure of what is happening, but for the mean time he’ll proceed the day as usual and try to think of something on the way.

 

* * *

 

It hits him while standing in the train. The last thing in a ‘normal’ timeline that he remembers is Bokuto’s ball spiked right to his face.

Then it all went weird from there.

Did the spike break something in Konoha’s brain?

 

* * *

 

The shopping goes well. Saru wants to buy new knee protector and, according to him, Konoha wants to buy a new pair of shoes. So off they go and shop, and Konoha’s acting is pretty much flawless except Sarukui is Sarukui so twice he stares at the blonde asking, “Are you okay? You seem a bit out of it today”, to which Konoha replies that yes, he is okay, he’s just a bit tired because he woke up too early. Sarukui isn’t convinced and tells Konoha to go home early, and the wing spiker reluctantly (or in his mind, gladly) agrees.

Everything afterward goes fine. He goes home, watches some TV, goes out to buy meat and vegetables, helps making dinner, eats dinner, has a meaningless yet fun family conversation, then goes back to bed. He doesn’t feel any eeriness like he did yesterday, aside from the fact that he feels like he’s skipped 3 weeks to that day.

He’s a bit wary of going to sleep now. Will he wake up in February? Or will he wake up tomorrow like normal? God, he hopes he’ll wake up tomorrow like normal. Should he stay up just to make sure?

In the middle of his thoughts, Konoha falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

And wakes up with Bokuto hand on half of his face and Komi’s foot on his chest.

He looks right (Bokuto’s then-shorter hair is standing all over the place) and left (Komi seemingly having a very good dream).

He remembers this all too well, because he’s cursed his luck of getting a futon beside both Komi and Bokuto, for one week straight.

He’s in their joint training camp in summer last year.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, hey, Konoha,” the blonde hears a familiar voice calling him.

“Oh, ‘sup Kuroo,” he answers, grinning a little.

“Nothing much,” Nekoma’s middle blocker answers, shrugging. “I see you’ve got yourself a new setter, huh.”

“You to—” he stops his sentence midway, realizing that he shouldn’t have known about Kenma’s position yet, since all the small, black-haired freshman has been doing is running and picking up balls. “I mean yeah, he’s pretty promising, our Akaashi.”

“Bokuto’s really attached to him, huh.”

“You sound a bit jealous,” Fukurodani’s wing spiker says with a chuckle, and Kuroo snorts with a grin. “Well, as you know we have no setter in our grade so he’s thrilled when Akaashi came. You should’ve seen the look on his face when Akaashi introduced himself for the first time.”

“Like a child with a new toy, I imagine,” Kuroo snickers, and Konoha follows.

“Totally.”

Four seconds of silence kick in before Kuroo gets up and pats the blonde on the shoulder. “Well. Gotta go now. Warm up for next match. When’s yours?”

“In forty minutes, so I’ve got some time.”

“‘Kay. We’re having another match later right?”

“Yeah.”

“See you.”

“You too.”

After waving to Nekoma’s to-be captain, Konoha shifts his stare to the ground. Yeah, he vaguely remembers having this conversation before, because he remembers last year Kuroo’s face looked a little smug when he started talking about “new setter.”

That, and their managers’ death glares when Komi and Bokuto were talking about something they really shouldn’t be speaking aloud about in front of their juniors (or anyone in general), Washio’s confusion when he was mistaken as a coach by Nekoma’s first-years, Miyahara-senpai's special secret training for Akaashi… It’s all exactly as it had happened a year ago. And yes, Konoha has pinched himself, Bokuto, and Komi and they really hurt. It’s not a dream. Hell, he can believe dreaming two entire days vividly. But dreaming an entire year? No way.

As ridiculous as it sounds, there’s one possible explanation: he’s gone back in time.

Konoha feels a little embarrassed by thinking of such a thing, but he can’t fight the growing feeling that it is indeed what’s been happening. After all, a couple of days ago he remembers passing out on a Tuesday, but then woke up on Monday. That doesn’t explain why he was somehow thrown into three weeks into the future afterward, but… What if he’d been thrown into some weird time… dimension… thing?

He’s thought of talking about this to someone, of course. But who would believe him? His sister is just gonna laugh her ass off, his parents would probably only look at him funny… Saru and Washio come to mind, but he doesn’t know how to tell them exactly. If someone told him, “Hey, I come from the future”, even if it were Saru or Washio, he’d probably raise an eyebrow and try to laugh to entertain whoever is joking.

He sighs. Should he wait another day? 

 

* * *

 

6:07 am. Konoha peers at the calendar. Wednesday, March 7 2018.

He knew it. He kept going back and forth in time every time he wakes up, but the time itself seems random. He frikking _knew_  it.

He pinches himself just to make sure. Ouch. Okay, it’s real.

2018\. 2018. That means three years after Konoha’s time. Huh. Wait.

He gets up quickly after realizing. As he thought, his room doesn’t feel familiar. It’s blue and smells like hairspray and there’s a bunch of books on the table and  _is that a dead body in front of the door?_

“Oh, Konoha, you’re up,” the dead body talks, and Konoha quickly realizes it’s probably not dead after all. Good. He’s not sure how to deal with a crime he didn’t do. Or hasn’t committed yet.

“Oh, yeah, uhhh, hi?” he replies carefully. He doesn’t recognize the person’s voice nor his overall appearance, so he decides it’s probably someone he’d know later in the future. Or in the past, if seen from ‘current’ time. This is very confusing.

“Hello,” the person replies, struggling to get up, and Konoha catches a glimpse of his face. Okay, he doesn’t know that face either, so it really is someone new in his life. But who could it be? His friend? College classmate? Roommate? “God, I hate how your room’s always so clean…”

Konoha forces a laugh. “Well… I try to clean once in a while. Anyway, what are you doing uhhh, sleeping there?” he asks, trying to sound normal, though he has no idea what ‘normal’ is for 3-years-later Konoha Akinori.

“The usual, that Akagi kept me in the lab all night and I just got back like… Half an hour ago, so I guess I just sort of passed out here before reaching my room.”

“Oh,” Konoha replies. _Flatmate._  “Do you, uhh, need help getting to your room?”

The mysterious man looks up, his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re really polite today.” Crap, Konoha thought. It’s hard to not be polite to someone he’s seen the first time. He hopes he’s not being too suspicious. “But nah, I can walk myself… Crawl myself, I mean.”

Phew, at least the guy doesn’t seem to mind it that much, he thinks. “I’ll help you up,” Konoha says without thinking as he hurriedly jumped out of bed, to the mysterious man’s surprise.

“Did you have some strange dream last night? You’re kinda creeping me out, being so nice and all.”

Damn it, reflex, he curses in his mind. But from what the mysterious man’s been saying, at least he knows that future!Konoha probably treats this man like Bokuto. Well, the guy does have kind of a Bokuto vibe. Okay. “Yeah, I guess I’m still a bit out of it, it’s 6 am. Consider this a one-time thing.”

“‘Aye, Sir.”

Good, that sounds natural.

Now that he’s helped the mysterious man—whose name is Yoshida, apparently—Konoha is back to his room. It’s so... surreal. So this is what he’s going to be in three years, rooming with a guy who’s doing science in college. Wait, what about himself? Is he in college too? Konoha begins to feel curious to peek at the books and everything, but at the same time he feels that it wouldn’t be right. The ‘current’ 17-year-old Konoha still doesn’t know what he wants to do in the future. He’s thought about it, like any other high school third-grader, but he hasn’t really decided yet. Looking into his life 3 years later, especially when he’s still in that state… it feels like cheating, and he’s not sure if he wants to do it, no matter how strong the urge to see the contents of the backpack beside his bed.

But wait a minute. What if he has an important class or something today? Shit. It is a weekday and if he’s working or in college, there’s a high probability that he needs to be somewhere. Should he take a look into his calendar or something? Yeah, he probably should. And he probably should hope that there is nothing important that day because it could potentially blow it for future!Konoha if his current self were to do it.

His eyes scans the bed and the desk beside it. There is his smartphone—well, he thinks it’s his smartphone. He lights it up and notices that it is locked with… fingerprint, thank goodness. He unlocks it, navigates to the calendar, and skims the dates. There’s “presentation” and “part-time job” on Tuesday and “group work” and another “part-time job” on Thursday, but nothing is on Wednesday, the red-circled day. That means there’s nothing today…! He sighs in relief, he was so nervous for a moment that he can still feel his heart thumping until now. Thank goodness. What a convenient day to be thrown into.

But hmm? What’s this, “deleted event”? Did he cancel something that day? Let’s see… “Akaashi”, it reads. Hm? Akaashi, as in that Akaashi? So Konoha still keeps in contact with him after 3 years? For one second he ponders if it’s a different Akaashi, but that name is pretty rare so it’s probably really Akaashi the volleyball team junior.

Just as he’s about to lock the phone and wonder what to do about his current situation, the phone makes a short ringing sound. A LINE message. Oh, speaking of the devil...

“Konoha-san, I’m terribly sorry about today. You even asked for a day off…”

He stares at it for a few seconds and chuckles. Yeah, it’s that Akaashi alright, his polite way of talking doesn’t change even after three years.

“No worries! There’s always next time.” Does this sound okay?

“Oh, you’re already up? I hope it’s not because of my message. Regardless, I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” It was okay, he guesses.

“Nah, I’ve been awake for a few minutes already. And really, don’t think too much about it!”

“Even if you say that, I still feel bad. I should go now, but I’ll contact you again as soon as I get coverage.”

As soon as he gets coverage? Konoha wonders where Akaashi is going. “Alright!”, he replies anyway.

So. That’s that. Yoshida’s asleep in his room, Akaashi who were supposed to meet him has gone off somewhere with no phone coverage… What should he do now? If he stays in the room, he will feel compelled to see what future!Konoha is doing. He probably should go out… or something.

Okay, let’s go do that.

The first thing notices when he takes the first step outside the building is… the city hasn’t changed much in 3 years, but that’s to be expected. Also, he actually knows this neighborhood, because Komi lives—well, used to live, or maybe still lives, whatever—about three or four blocks away, and he always passes this street when walking to and from the train station.

He strolls absentmindedly, trying to think how to get back to his own time. It all started with Bokuto’s spike so… Can he ask Bokuto to spike him good again? But he doesn’t even know if he still keeps in touch with Bokuto at the time, and how the heck would he ask something like that, anyway? “Hey Bokuto, do you want to come over and hang out and maybe hit a ball to my face.”

Still, it won’t hurt to see, he thinks while getting his smartphone. Contacts… Boku… Ah, there he is. And he’s on LINE as well, last conversation they had was… oh, February 2018? That’s a few weeks ago, so they still talk even now, that’s nice. Right? He opens and skims the conversation, not much except Bokuto’s yelling and lack of kanji letters. Some people really don’t change, huh, he thinks while chuckling quietly.

It’s March, but it’s still quite cold, it seems. Well, it is pretty early, he wonders if he can stop by some place... If he remembers correctly, and if it’s still there, there should be… Ah, there it is, an internet cafe. It’s not exactly his favorite place, but he wants to be inside and he should really research something about his current situation. Let’s go.

He goes in and already he feels the smell of cigarette sticking to his hair. He sighs. Oh well, he’ll just ask for a non-smoking room.

To the computer room he goes, and to google’s main page he navigates.

“Time slip,” he types.

“A plot device used in fantasy and science fiction,” it reads.

But this isn’t fantasy or sci-fi, this is real life. Unfortunately. “Time travel,” he types again.

“A concept of movement between different points in time.”

He knows that much, but well he feels like he’s getting a little closer.

He dives further into his searches, taking note of anything that might be useful, and decides to try all of them at home later. 

 

* * *

 

Konoha doesn’t even have to check the clock anymore—the first thing he checks is the date. December 25, 2009. Damn, none of his attempts yesterday succeeded, he sighs. He’s gone back further in time now. 2009, so he’s in first year of middle school. And it’s Christmas. He tries to remember if there’s anything happening that year, thankfully not. He’s just going to spend it with his family as usual. At least it’s not Christmas of his first year of high school, with his girlfriend dumping him over something he doesn’t remember. But he does remember it was awful.

But wait. Wait a minute.

He’s gone further back now—this is six years ago.

First time, he woke up one day earlier. Then he went a month later. Then one year earlier. Then three years later. Now is six years earlier. He thought the time was random so he didn’t really think of it and focused on getting to his own time instead. Which failed repeatedly. But if this goes on… It could be that in two days, he can go back to the time when he’s still a toddler.

Or worse, when he doesn’t exist yet.

Shit.  _Shit_. Why didn’t he think of this earlier? What will happen then? Shit. He’s got to try again. He’s got to find a way. Soon.

That day, Konoha fakes a sickness while everyone in the house, including some extended family members, celebrates Christmas.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Konoha notices when he wakes up is an incredibly familiar scent but he couldn’t exactly remember what it is. It’s coming from everywhere, even the pillow and blanket. He looks around. 6:07 am, of course. He stares at the room—a white, simple room with photos, lots of them, hanging on the wall, he can’t see it clearly from the distance but it seems that they’re pictures of him and other people.

Oh, wait, where’s his cellphone, he’s gotta know what year it is— huh. What is this white thing— is this a phone? What the hell? Seriously, did he get thrown too far into the future?

“Akinori-san?”

He gets startled by the mention of his name and quickly turns his head. Someone is standing just outside the room with a cup of what smells like coffee. Wait… unlike Yoshida the mysterious guy, this man seems familiar. The hair’s shorter than he remembers. The voice lower. The figure a bit taller. The face more mature and has a certain firmness to it. A pair of black-framed glasses are now hanging on his face. But he still has the same eyes, eyebrows, and overall look on his face.

“Akaashi?”

The guy’s eyes widen a little, looking a bit offended that for a split second Konoha is afraid it’s just someone who looks really similar to Akaashi and not actually him. “It’s been a while since the last time you called me with my last name, Akinori-san.”

Huh. It is Akaashi. But somehow, they’re in first-name basis now...? “Ah, umm I… Sorry,” he says and stops there. He’s not sure how to act to a mature version of his junior, and he doesn’t know what he calls the younger. Knowing himself, it’s probably “Keiji-kun” or plain “Keiji”, but he doesn’t want to risk it. Besides, it’s weird calling Akaashi with those names when he looks way older than he is, though technically the ex-setter is still younger than him. Why are they on first-name terms anyway?

“I made coffee. Do you want some?”

“Huh? Ah, yeah, sure. Please. Thank you.”

“Alright, just a second.” Akaashi looks at him for a few more seconds before he goes out, and Konoha hears the sound of glasses softly colliding. He looks left and right, still confused, and again notices a wall full of pictures on his right. Intrigued, he steps away from the bed and stands in front of them.

It’s ordered very neatly, but in such a way that it doesn’t feel boring. The right side of the picture collection has photos of him: one alone wearing a commencement robe, others with people who seems to be his friends, with his parents, with his sister, with his uncle and aunt, with his high school classmates, oh there’s one with Yoshida too. On the left side, there are Akaashi’s pictures with his parents, with his friends, with a golden retriever, and some other people he doesn’t recognize. Moving closer to the center, there are pictures of people he knows very well of—Fukurodani volleyball club. There are pictures from high school days, the training camps and graduation, as well as some that seem like reunions. Somehow there’s also Kuroo in a couple of reunion pictures. Right in the center of all photos are pictures of him and Akaashi together. Not together with friends or anything, but really the two of them together. And not just one, but many of them. On the beach. At a ski resort. At a cafe. In front of a room together.

Why?

“Akinori-san,” he hears his name called and his heart skips a bit in surprise when he turns his head. “Here’s your coffee.”

“Ah—oh, thanks,” he says with a smile and a nod. The coffee is black, but it doesn’t taste bitter at all—seems like his current body is accustomed to this taste, but he doesn’t think of it much. He can’t get his mind off the photos in front of him.

“How was the meeting yesterday?” Akaashi asks.

“Huh? It was—it was pretty good,” Konoha answers vaguely. He can’t concentrate at all, he has so much questions, both about his current time situation and about the life future!Konoha is living.

“That’s great,” Akaashi answers. Although Konoha’s mind is currently elsewhere, he can still feel the younger’s gaze on him. Akaashi has always been perceptive, even as a high-schooler, so of course he’d realize if Konoha acts suspicious now.

This is stupid.

“And how was—”

“What year is it?” Konoha blurts out suddenly, cutting the question. Akaashi blinks.

“Pardon?”

“I’m sorry,” Konoha apologizes and he places his gaze to the floor, then to Akaashi’s eyes again. “This sounds weird I know but… What year is it today?”

The black-haired’s expression doesn’t really change, but Konoha could almost feel how confused he is. “It’s 2028.”

2028\. 13 years. 13 years from where he’s from! Which means he’s 30 right now! Almost twice his age a few days ago! He feels like laughing; he doesn’t even know how else to react.

“Akinori-san, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting really strange today.”

Konoha forces a weak smile as he puts the coffee mug on the desk behind him. To hell with pride, to hell what other people think. This might be a life and death situation for him. He might disappear. He might not exist anymore. To hell with this.

“Akaashi, I—” he notices the younger looks a little surprised by the name again. “This is going to sound crazy, and you probably won’t believe me, but it’s the truth.” Akaashi stares at him, waiting for what he’s about to say, and Konoha is distracted by the steaming coffee in the younger’s hands. He takes a breath. “I’m Konoha Akinori, but not the present Konoha Akinori. I might look older, but in the inside, I’m Konoha Akinori who’s still a high school student.”

There’s a moment of silence, as expected. Of course. Akaashi might think he’s gone nuts, but what’s said is said. He just wishes Akaashi won’t kick him out while he’s still wearing bed clothes, it seems kind of cold outside.

Konoha looks at the wall behind Akaashi, then to the man himself, who seems like he is going to say something. He expects a reply of 'do you feel well, Akinori-san?' or 'did you bump your head?' or 'Akinori-san, April Fool’s long gone,' but he certainly doesn’t expect “I see. So it’s today.”

Huh?

“Huh?” he voices out his thought exactly.

“Well, you do sometimes play pranks on me, but somehow this morning it felt off. You’re good at acting, but you seemed to be genuinely confused since I saw you. Somehow it didn’t feel right,” Akaashi replies, and pauses as his eyes moved from the mug in his hands straight to Konoha’s eyes. “And when you asked for the year, I realized that this is what you’ve been telling me about.”

Huh? What Konoha’s been telling Akaashi about? What is this man talking about? Konoha wants to ask, but Akaashi already carries on,

“You said you’re still in high school? How old are you?”

“Huh? Umm I,” Konoha stutters a little. “I should be 17—uhh, 18 I guess, in third grade now.”

“Hmm,” Akaashi replies, and Konoha notices a barely noticeable smile on the younger’s face. What does it mean? “I see. How did you come here?”

Hearing that question, Konoha feels something burst inside of him. He hasn’t talked to anyone, he’s been alone trying to find answers, and right now someone is there for him. He feels a rush of heat filling his head and eyebags as he blurts out everything, and there might have been tears. He talks so much in such a short span of time to the point that even himself is surprised how he can talk that fast. Akaashi doesn’t say anything, all he does is listening while nodding and occasionally taking a sip of his coffee.

When Konoha finishes talking, he still feels the heat on his face and tears on the corner of his eyes after the sudden rush of emotion. Akaashi hands him a box of tissue, which he takes to wipe whatever is on his face. Konoha feels so much emotions right now—anxiousness, anger, fear, confusion, relief, to the point that his mind almost becomes numb and all he can think about is, ‘I must look like a mess right now.’

“So in short,” Akaashi says after Konoha seems to be a bit calmer. “You passed out after your head got hit by Bokuto-san’s spike, and afterward you kept going back and forth in time?”

“Exactly,” Konoha replies, his voice still sounds funny after all the tears, but he can’t care less. “I’ve tried everything, I tried sleeping earlier and later and I tried taking a nap in daytime but I couldn’t. My sleep schedule seems to be fixed from 10 to 6 no matter how much milk or coffee I drink. I can’t wake up earlier or later as well. It’s stupid but I’ve tried banging my head a couple times—nothing happened except that I got hurt. A lot.”

“Hmm,” Akaashi nods, and after a few moments asks, “Have you tried hitting your head with a volleyball?”

“I did,” Konoha says. “I even thought of contacting Bokuto to do it for me but couldn’t get to it… I ended up throwing a ball to the wall so it would bounce to my head. It didn’t work.”

“Hmm,” Akaashi seems to be deep in thought and all Konoha can do is staring at him while taking his fifth tissue. Now that the rush is dying down and his mind feels more clear, he realizes how strange it feels to see someone who’s supposed to be younger suddenly levels up to be almost twice the age Konoha knows him of. But that look suits Akaashi well—it’s exactly how he’d imagine an Akaashi in the future would look like, if he should say. Those glasses and the shorter hair fit him perfectly, as well as the grey pajama and the beige slippers. “What if I try spiking it to your face, then?”

“Sorry?” Konoha asks as Akaashi’s words blur his thoughts. Did the younger just say he wants to spike a ball to Konoha’s face?

“Do you mind if we try me spiking the ball to your head?” Oh, he heard that right. “Of course by spiking I mean I’ll just do a slow serve. You are still Akinori-san, after all.”

Oh! That actually sounds like a good idea. Maybe. He doesn’t know, at this point, everything sounds like a good idea and he’ll try anything as long as he doesn’t get thrown back to a time when he’s still in the womb. “That does sound good. Do you happen to have a volleyball, though?”

“Yeah, I—we have one. You and I sometimes play outside when the weather’s nice. Well, you in the future, I mean.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

Akaashi tells him that they can probably do it in the park just a minute walk away, then he puts on a jacket then takes a ball from a small cupboard near the front door and hands Konoha a pair of sneakers and a jacket. He puts them on and quietly follows the younger outside.

The wind gusts softly and Konoha feels his hair slightly blown by it. He looks around, leaves are starting to grow, a couple of birds hanging on the branches. It’s spring, he thinks.

He gazes back to the man in front of him—he feels like he should ask something or start a conversation, but he isn’t sure what he should be talking about. The silence is getting a little awkward.

“From when exactly are you, do you remember the date?” Thankfully, Akaashi breaks the ice.

“O-oh, September 29, I think. It was a Tuesday.”

“Oh,” Akaashi says, Konoha might have caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips. “A day before your birthday.”

“Huh? Oh—yeah, that’s right,” he answers. He didn’t think of that at all.

“Happy almost birthday,” Akaashi says, and Konoha’s eyes widen a little as chuckles escape his lips.

“What’s that,” he replies. It feels like forever since the last time he smiles like this. “But thank you.”

They pause for a moment as both of them are enjoying the cool breeze passing by. It’s such a nice morning, Konoha thinks.

“Anyway, Akaashi,” Konoha begins another conversation. “I’ve been wondering but what do you—” But then he suddenly stops. “Ah, no, never mind, sorry.”

“Hmm?” the bespectacled asks, slightly tilting his head.

“No, nothing. I was going to ask what do you do, but I thought it wouldn’t be interesting if I’d found out about my future. Or yours. It kind of feels like cheating,” Konoha replies with a chuckle. Akaashi observes him. “But well, but that’s only a problem if I can get back.”

Again, Akaashi’s expression hardly changes, but somehow Konoha feels warmness from it, and he doesn’t know why. That doesn’t stop him from liking it. “Let’s try and hope, shall we? If you don’t get back, I’d be troubled as well.”

Konoha wonders what he means by that.

Less than a minute later, they arrive at the place Akaashi has told him about. It’s a small park with only a swing, a sandbox, and half a basketball court, but it looks nice with flowers on the side and tall trees surrounding it.

“Well,” the black-haired says. “Do you want to do some little passing first?”

“Huh? Oh—sure,” Konoha answers without thinking, almost like he’s forgotten that he’s a bit in a hurry to find a way to go back.

“Alright, here I go.”

As Akaashi passes the ball to him, Konoha stares at the man in front of him. He’s been through a lot of things in the last few days and he should be in a state of panic—well he is panicked right now—but somehow…

He doesn’t know how to put it into words.

He’s thought of it. He’s thought of it a lot since he woke up an hour ago. He’s thought of why Akaashi was in the room where he woke up in. He’s thought of the pictures in the wall. He’s told himself he doesn’t want to know the future. He’s said it to Akaashi as well.

But maybe it’s okay to ask just this one question?

“Akaashi, what are we—”

He doesn’t notice the ball flying right to his face, and he blacks out before he can finish his sentence.

 

* * *

 

“Konoha? Are you okay?”

“Konoha?? Konoha??? KONOHA!!!!”

The blonde opens his eyes and is instantly welcomed by faces way too close to his and a sharp pain to his forehead.

“He opened his eyes!! HE OPENED HIS EYES!! Do you know who you are? Do you know us? I’M SO SORRY KONOHA!!”

Damn it, Bokuto, you’re making Konoha’s head hurt more.

But wait.

He gets up quickly, a little too quickly as the pain pierces him more by the sudden movement, but he doesn’t care. “What year is it?”

“2015,” Sarukui answers promptly. “Are you okay, Konoha? Do you know who you are?”

“KONOHA IS BROKEN I’M SO SOR—”

“Go away, Bokuto, I’m not broken and I remember who you are and who I am. I’m just a bit confused.”

Bokuto’s eyes swells up. “GONOHAAAA!!”

“Who the hell is that?!”

He hasn’t said anything but retorts to Bokuto since he wakes up, because well the captain is so damn loud, but also because he can’t get anything else out from his throat.

Is this real?

His head hurts like _hell_. Of course it is.

Then what the hell just happened?

So he passed out because Bokuto’s spike hitting his head. He gets thrown into some weird time distortion and keeps going back and forth in time and somehow comes back because Akaashi hits a ball to his head.

Hahaha. What a stupid dream.

What a… stupid dream.

Repeating the sentence in his mind doesn’t stop him from feeling warmness blanketing him as he sees his friends in their current age, although some are way too close to his personal space for his comfort. He doesn’t care. His hands are probably trembling, or maybe the ground is trembling, he doesn’t care. His head hurts, but more than anything, he just feels relieved and tired, so relieved and tired that he almost feels like crying. In fact, he might already feel a drop of tear forming on his eye and flowing through his cheek.

Oh, no, he hopes no one saw it, he thinks while casually wiping it away when Washio offers him a hand to get up, which he gladly takes. Bokuto is still loudly apologizing and asking if he’s okay (for the nth time, he is), Onaga offers his some ice (always a reliable junior), Yukie offers him some snacks (why), Komi grins and pats him on the back (which he would reply with something snarky if only his brain had functioned more normally), Kaori tells him to go to the infirmary (he really should), Sarukui offers to take him there (nah he can walk by him— whoops, okay, on second thought he probably should take the offer).

He puts a hand on Sarukui’s shoulder as he begins walking away with Bokuto tailing them. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Akaashi standing a little away from them, gazing at him, a relieved smile barely forming on his lips.

He doesn’t know why but for some reason, amidst all the emotions, Konoha feels a little rush to his cheeks.

 

 


End file.
